What too much vodka can do
by steshin
Summary: The big day has finally arrived for Alto to wed his superior’s sister and fiancee. But just before he can say, “I do,” a premarital fling from his not-so-distant past crashes the wedding.
1. Prologue

Title: What too much vodka can do  
Rating: T  
Genre: Humor/Romance  
Disclaimer: I do not own Macross Frontier.  
Summary: The big day has finally arrived for Alto to wed his superior's sister and wife-to-be. But just before he can say, "I do," a premarital fling from his not-so-distant past crashes the wedding.

A/N: The formal first chapter has yet to begin. Enjoy this prologue (that's kinda recycled).

* * *

**Prologue**

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* * *

  
**

Michel Blanc had learned long ago that there was never a dull moment when it involved Saotome Alto, his best friend and comrade.  
He had known Alto since high school, and together with his other best friend Luca Angelloni—loli-shouta extraordinaire and heir to the L.A.I Corporation, they never found a boring moment in their times together.

Not even today. On Alto's wedding day…

"Senpai, hold still," Luca admonished as he tried to fix Alto's tie. Luca, being short, as his loli-shouta state demanded him to be, was already on his toes as he tried to do the task. Alto had to bend his trunk forward for Luca. He did not like it one bit, as the positioning of their bodies made it look like something a yaoi fangirl would like to see.

"This is stupid…" Alto grumbled under his breath. Michel's pointy ear perked up on that. He smiled a devilish grin.

"Hoho, having second thoughts, hime?"

"You're wrong!"

"Senpai, hold still!"

"I'll take care of this, Luca," Michel took the reins from Luca and secured the tie expertly while the bridegroom muttered a grumpy "thanks".

Luca watched with a smile as he sat on the daybed. "I still can't believe Senpai is getting married."

Michel snorted. "I know there's a saying 'stranger things can happen,' but I can't think of anything that can surpass this."

Alto reacted with a scowl, "Michel, you"—

"Now, now, hime. Don't make me tighten this tie of yours _accidentally_." He was smiling but the evil intention could be felt around him.

Alto could only glare at his spectacled friend, not wanting to risk his neck--literally-- if he did anything else.

"There we go, all done." Michel stepped back and reviewed his work with approval.

"Senpai," Luca chuckled, "you look so weird in a tux."

"I'll say," Michel nodded in agreement, "he should be the one in the wedding dress instead."

Alto's brows were ticking dangerously.

"Luca…Michel, I am so close to cheerfully murdering you two."

With his hands clenched into fists on his side, he looked more like an angry princess than a supposedly eager groom.

Michel sighed dramatically. "Poor Ranka-chan. Having to marry such a brute. I will pray for her soul everyday."

"Alto-senpai must be so happy," Luca chimed in, "she's a nice girl and all."

Alto's homicidal face shifted dramatically. He turned away from both of them, unable to look them in the eye.

"Umm…yeah."

"Senpai, is something wrong?"

"Nothing…"

"Don't tell me you're getting cold feet." Luca cried out in alarm.

"I'm not!"

Michel's face became solemn as he turned to Luca and said, "Luca, could you excuse us a bit." It was not a request. The curt tone in his voice indicated that. Luca immediately obeyed without question and hastily got off the daybed.

"Yes, of course!"

He crossed the room to the door and exited silently.

It was quiet.

When Michel was sure that Luca no longer had his ear pressed to the door, he cleared his throat. Walking over to the windows, he asked. "Alto, are you seriously having second thoughts?"

Alto's reply was hesitantly done.

"…I don't know."

Michel took a deep breath, as if to steady himself for what was coming next. Both he and Alto were facing each other's backs, their words the only things that would meet.

"Alto, you could always"—

"I can't go back on my word." Alto snapped.

"Damn, you're stubborn." Michel chuckled before becoming deadly serious again.

"Alto, remember...these kinds of things aren't to be taken lightly. Put Ranka's feelings into consideration. It's going to be hard to watch that poor girl suffer from your indecisiveness—be it on your backtracking decision or the long run."

"Michel…"

"Think about it."

"I promised I'd protect her." The words Alto had uttered sounded determined but Michel knew better.

"There should be something else to say, don't you think?"

Alto could not answer.

* * *

The whole time Ranka looked at him with such a gentle and loving smile, Alto was suffering more and more every second...  
He couldn't make sense of what the priest was droning on about when he should—as they had rehearsed many times on this.

His earlier conversation with Michel kept ringing in his head. Cold sweat started to bead on his face and nape. The guilt he had tried to bottle in was bubbling inside and was ready to pop the cork.

Ranka was clearly listening to whatever the priest was saying, because whatever he said, it made Ranka smile even more lovingly at him.  
It took Alto a full minute to finally realize that they were already at the heart of the vows—and Ranka had just finished saying "I do".

Alto stiffened as the priest began to ask him the questions he had asked Ranka.

"—To love and to honor, till death do you part?"

It was Alto's turn to answer.

Everyone waited for him.

Alto opened his mouth.

Everyone sat on the edge of their seats.

Alto was hesitating.

Ranka's smile faltered.

The priest was getting impatient.

Michel was softly praying for Alto.

Klan was clutching Michel's hand tightly.

Luca was trembling.

Nanase, the bridesmaid, was wringing the bouquet she was holding for Ranka.

Ozma was silently reaching for his gun.

Cathy was trying to restrain him.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity…

Alto reached out for Ranka's gloved hand and clasped it firmly.

"I"—

The sound of the chapel doors being barged open returned everything to a standstill.

All eyes turned around.

Standing there on the entryway was a beautiful tempestuous woman, who looked like she was capable of sending anyone to hell if need be.  
It also seemed like she was targeting Alto for the trip to said hell with her daggering glare at him.

Alto looked like he saw a ghost.

"Saotome Alto!"

She began marching down the aisle.

"You can't marry that girl!"

Everyone broke into mindless clamor.

"On what grounds…?" asked the priest, who seemed to be the only one with a clear head around.

The beautiful woman stopped a few feet from the altar and pale couple. She regarded the priest with a smile before turning to Alto.

"On the grounds that I'm carrying the groom's child," was her answer.

-

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From his spot, Michel could only blink in astonishment.

Truly, there was never a dull moment when it involved Saotome Alto.


	2. That one night

Title: What too much vodka can do  
Rating: T  
Genre: Humor/Romance  
Disclaimer: I do not own Macross Frontier.  
Summary: The big day has finally arrived for Alto to wed his superior's sister and wife-to-be. But just before he can say, "I do," a premarital fling from his not-so-distant past crashes the wedding.

A/N: This was lightly written under the influence of...well, I leave that to your imagination.

* * *

Alto touched his nape and sure enough it was wet with sweat. _Cold sweat_. He let out a miserable sigh as he traced the rim of his shot glass. In a few short weeks, he was going to be tied down. The idea appealed to him like the thought of jumping off a building. He called the bartender's attention for a refill. He got it in two minutes and finished it in five seconds.

Alto licked the flavor of the spirits over his lips, feeling a bit calm. He rarely went inside bars or pubs. Hell, he rarely drank at all—except for the occasional sake—but that was only _occasionally_. He called for another and in one gulp, he finished it but not without wincing from the cold that made his teeth chatter and brain hurt.

Alto massaged his temples. _This is ridiculous_, he thought. What did he gain by sitting here, drinking one glassful after another? Momentary reprieve from his problems perhaps...but that would be gone the moment the hangover would set in. He let out a shuddering breath. He felt like an idiot. Hell, he was an idiot. He was also a jerk. No doubting that. He felt the guilt bite him in the butt whenever he thought of Ranka's innocent smile.

He closed his eyes and tried to erase his fiancée's face from his mind. He succeeded as his ears caught a melodious song. He opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder. There on the small-rise platform was a woman crooning out words to a song in acapella. She was beautiful. Alto gave her that. The lights made her hair glow pink and eyes sparkle. She had the right curves too…but he wasn't the least interested, voluptuous women were great and all but this woman had too much of everything.

He wouldn't be surprised if he learned that one or two parts of her anatomy were fake…not that he had any intention of learning about her anatomy. As she sang, she held the microphone in a way that made the men stare with keen fascination. She was crooning the words in a silky sexy voice that made one think he was listening to audio porn.

Alto turned back his attention to his empty glass. His hands were cold as he pressed his face to his palms. The singing stopped and applause sounded off as well as a few dirty remarks and catcalls. He heard someone shouting for encore— but no encore came.

Alto was contemplating leaving when he sensed someone's presence on the bar stool beside him. He lifted his face from his hands and peered to his side. It was her—the singer.

"Hello," she said, surveying him whole with no shame that made Alto feel violated.

Alto hoped the bad lighting concealed his flushed face as he nodded to her. "Hi."

"Did you like my song?" She asked him with twinkling eyes. They were blue—like the sky. Unless she was wearing contacts, then those peepers were certainly her best asset.

Alto gave her a half-smile. "Yes." Actually, he hadn't really been listening close attention, but he decided to pretend that she had asked him if he was turned on by it.

"Really now…" She signaled for the bartender. After placing her order, she turned back to Alto and asked, "What was I singing about?"

Alto blinked at the unexpected question. She was smiling smugly at him. "Well?"

He tried to recall. "It was about…umm…something." He turned his attention to his hands splayed on the counter in embarrassment. His cheeks felt hot—hotter, when she started laughing. It was a nice laugh, he thought. ..And the alcohol must be getting to him.

Her drink arrived but she didn't touch it—not yet anyway. She was more intent on making a conversation with him.

"You don't talk much, do you?"

He shrugged.

"Hm. Or are you in some sort of bad mood?"

He didn't answer.

"Having problems perhaps?"

Still, he did not answer.

"Woman problems?"

He stiffened, which made the woman grin.

"I'm right, aren't I?" She relished her small victory with a sip from her drink. She smacked her lips in satisfaction. "That hit the spot…"

She crossed her legs and smiled. "So tell me, did you have a fight with your girlfriend?"

Alto shut his eyes. "No."

"Oh. So what's wrong?" She actually sounded concerned for him, Alto thought wryly. The drinks he had was probably addling his brains because he _actually_ felt like telling her his problems, which was stupid.

…

Then again…sharing his problem to this stranger might help him get an unbiased opinion. Michel and Luca hadn't been much help…and Ozma would kill him right on the spot if he talked to him about this nagging trouble. Maybe this woman would give him an honest and unbiased insight. God knows he needed one.

Bracing his thoughts, he looked at her with seriousness. Her smile faltered a bit.

"You want to know?"

She shrugged.

"I asked, didn't I?"

Alto took a few moments to gather his thoughts before telling her.

"I don't love her."

Silence was his response. He waited for a verbal answer. She stared at him with an unreadable expression. Alto stared right back at her. Then she brought one hand in the air, which garnered the bartender's attention.

"Give us two Firebombers."

* * *

Alto was laughing like an idiot. Wait, screw that. He was an idiot. The woman beside him was no better, hiccupping in between giggles.

"So…you're a pilot." She laughed at the spoken statement, pounding her fists on the counter like it was the funniest thing in the world. Alto grinned at her, while trying hard to keep his balance. He had already fallen off twice from his stool.

"You don't look like one…" She slurred, as she emptied the contents of her glass. She rubbed her tummy, looking extremely pleased. "I feel so warm." She giggled before erupting into fits of hiccups. Alto laughed at her, throwing his head back. His laughter seemed to fill the whole space. Sheryl joined him as she recovered.

"Ozma is going to grill my ass!" He declared, raising his glass in the air. Using his free hand, he gave a mock salute to an imaginary Ozma. "Sir, I cannot marry your sister!" He almost sounded sober when he said that.

"Hear, hear!" His drunken companion raised an empty glass to that. They brought their glasses together and laughed.

Alto felt wonderful. Drunk—but wonderful... Eyeing his friend, she looked like she felt the same. They drank and laughed until it was closing time and the bartender told them to get the hell out.

* * *

They were still laughing as they walked—err swayed to no certain direction.

Alto had thrown an arm over his female companion's shoulders, which were shaking from laughter.

It suddenly began to rain.

In a matter of minutes, they were drenched. They made no move and stood there unsteadily in the rain. People moved past them, giving them odd looks. They just stood there. The rain was increasing its intensity.

"Hey,"

He looked down at her face.

She peered at him with deep eyes.

"Want to go somewhere?"

He smiled, knowing the meaning of those words.

* * *

Articles of wet clothes lay carelessly strewn all over the floor.

The room was dark. There was no sound to be heard, save for the light shuffling on the bed.

"What's your name?" He asked, brushing a lock of sweat-plastered hair from her face. She snuggled closer to his body.

"Sheryl…"

Shortly after, she dozed off. Alto followed her, breathing in the scent of their sated bodies in his sleep.


End file.
